Folly Dreams
by neutrois
Summary: Disconnected drabbles, incomplete ideas, and other oneshots.
1. Blushing Bargain

"One kiss." Tsuna frowned at his tutor turned friend turned Lover. How could he expect affection, and so shamelessly!

"No! No kisses," he refused, turning away from Renato, laying on the couch more defiantly with arms crossed and legs tucked under him."Not even on the nose?" A shiver went through his body as hot air puffed gently against his collarbone. Tsuna quickly flipped onto his stomach, trying to ignore the sudden affection attempts bestowed onto him.

Seeing the negative shake of the head, Renato nuzzled his lover's neck, enjoying the jerky bodily movement that came right as his light touch feathered across sensitive skin. Tsuna whined in distressed, curling up as much as he can away from any more brief tickles.

"May I hug you, then?"

Minutes passed by, but Tsuna's embarrassment and blushes (and Renato) refused to go away. Reluctantly, and keeping his burning face away, he nodded an okay.

With strong but careful arms around him, as well as the warmth radiating from the body pressed behind him, Tsuna finally relaxed an hour later.

"This isn't a hug," he said tentatively, but all the same slowly gripping onto the arms holding him. _I'm sorry I can't accept your affections so easily_, wasn't said.

"No." _It's okay_, was shown in the form of fingers lacing together.

Because love can be shown and said in so many other ways, Renato thought.

—

An: yes, Renato will be Reborn's name in these drabbles—it's sort of awkward just saying, "Reborn."


	2. Microwaves Suck

"How long have you been up trying to make that stupid recipe?" Tsuna jumped in surprise, accidentally spilling sugar and cracking an egg on the floor. Wincing, he slowly turned to look into his (damn) lover's amused eyes (he bet they were laughing at him, along with those darn curls), following them as they observed the mess he made. Spilled flour on the counter, now with sugar, the broken egg on the floor that also has flour, and the many, many giant mugs of overcooked, misshapen, microwaved cakes. Tsuna laughed nervously, bringing a hand to push back his fluffy hair, grimacing when his fingers got tangled. It seemed his hand wasn't free from the stickiness of sugar (or was it the vanilla extract).

"Well," he dragged out, not meeting Renato's dark eyes, "I couldn't sleep." He peeked at his lover's expression, looking down at the spilled egg. It was sliding too close to his toes, he thought, but not making an effort to do anything about it. "And I remembered Kyoko-chan talking about the microwave cake, which would be great for when her sweet tooth attacks—"

"Mhm." Tsuna swallowed nervously, still not making eye contact. Or admitting—"You left the bed. Around three. A.M."

"Why are you—" Renato sighed, throwing a towel at his silly lover's head (ignoring the cute and indignant squeak in response) before heading to the coffee machine. It was still too early, cold, and he will admit he was disappointed in getting out of bed without waking Tsuna up in his own way.

He smirked as he heard grumblings of, "you could have helped!" as he waited for the coffee to finish dripping into the pot, vaguely wondering if all the cups were dirty.

"Did you sacrifice all the cups?" Renato asked, smiling when he heard, "I only used the big mugs!"

Finally, when he settled two cups of coffee onto the now cleaned kitchen island, Tsuna muttered, "it is a stupid recipe." Brown eyes glared at the failed "cup" cakes.

"Oh?" Renato raised a brow, skillfully sipping the hot brew. The temperature was just right.

"I could make a regular cake. Then there would be more to enjoy."

"Mm," Renato leaned over Tsuna, wrapping an arm around his body and kissing his brow, "but you're more delicious."

A cake wasn't made that early morning, nor was it made later in the evening, but the two were content cleaning up in the bathroom, and later lazing around the house...

Yes, Tsuna's always more delicious than any cake, Renato thought, tucking them in bed later that night. And sometimes, restless nights could be fixed with tiresome activities.


	3. Glitter Glitter

"I'm not joining you in that," Tsuna quickly said, turning away from the bathroom's doorway. He let out a gasp as Renato hooked an arm around his waist, holding him in place. Frowning, he leaned heavily onto the other. If he can't escape, he's going to make himself comfortable! "How did you even do that to the previous bathtub?" he muttered, crossing his arms in defiance.

"Well," Renato drawled out lightly, smiling at Tsuna's antics, "I got it from your dear friend Hayato."

"I thought he stopped making bombs?"

"Destructive bombs," he corrected, slowly pulling the reluctant body closer to the tub.

"That's pretty destructive," Tsuna side eyed the mass of color and sparkling _glitter_. "And that's still a bomb," he stressed.

"A harmless, nontoxic, and relaxing bath bomb," Renato said, amused by the stalling, "besides, it's not doing any harm."

"Look at the tub! That's harmful! And just think of the pipes and sewage!" Tsuna frowned, squinting at tainted water. He didn't bother to make his escape when the arms around him withdrew, he would be caught in seconds.

"Hayato's a genius, remember? And he knows all about your," Tsuna wrinkled his nose as a finger lightly tapped on it, "worries. Its bio-degradable. That won't interfere with any of the plumbing. 100 percent harmless."

Renato's coaxing wasn't making any progress, though he noted as he striped off his clothing (leaving his boxer-briefs on for now, not wanting to make Tsuna too uncomfortable) it also left the other indecisive. "I could just pull you in," he mused out loud, smirking at the sudden tensing of the body.

"Fine!" Tsuna huffed and pouted, "just, don't look!"

With an amused brow rising, he hummed in agreement and turned around, "I'll be waiting in the tub then."

—

"What is that?" Renato kept a blank expression, staring at the... Metallic glittery mess in their wine glasses.

"Alcohol," Tsuna smiled sweetly, pushing the glass closer to Renato and ignoring the raised brow.

"Alcohol," Renato repeated, picking up the offered "drink" and swirling the liquid around, "with glitter?"

"Mhm," Tsuna nodded his head, enjoying the reluctance. "I gave a bottle to Hayato-kun, too, in thanks for the glitter bath bomb."

"Ah." Still, there wasn't any encouraging movement to drink the strange concoction—it was one thing to bathe in safe glitter, but another to drink it. Tsuna sighed, giving up on trying to convince the other to drink it with minimal information.

"It's safe," he lifted his own glass for a sip, "the company that makes this brand uses the same type of ingredients as pop rock candy." Tsuna rolled his eyes as Renato plucked the glass from his hand and poured it down the sink.

Renato's excuse was, "Alcohol shouldn't be so sweet."


	4. Wednesday is Grocery Day

Catching sight of the calendar, Tsuna cursed in the privacy of his mind, frowning at the endless paperwork in front of him. It was Wednesday again. Grocery day.

With a sigh, he hurried through his current paper cut prone disaster, hoping he could make it to the 6 o'clock train—It wasn't that he forgot about buying his weekly supply of necessities, he's been doing it since living by himself for two years—But the day he chose was a pain, a necessary one (all the other days were the work crunch time days, and his weekends are too precious when his vacation days are terribly limited).

With the last of the evil, evil paper work done, and a last check of the request emails, Tsuna quickly gathered his belonging and hurried out of the building.

—

Tsuna glared at the shelf of coffee. It was mocking him, being all the way up there. Coffee has no business being in tall places, where they're inconvenient to grab. It was his last item to get to, before he could get into a line and leave (and go _home_). Not seeing any workers or ladders, he tried to tip toe his way to the darn container of coffee.

He was still too short. How tall does a shelf need to be! Huffing, Tsuna stepped onto the lowest shelf, and carefully, oh so carefully reached for the out of the way coffee—and felt another body press onto his back (and aren't they just radiating immense body heat!), an arm pulling him back onto the ground.

Slightly put off, and confused, Tsuna turned to whoever ruined his wholehearted effort... And saw a bright yellow tie against a neat pinstriped collared shirt, before something heavy was placed into his arms. He didn't even notice. It wasn't his fault he was short! he thought, blushing in embarrassment. And yellow tie man is too tall, who needs that much height. Even if it helped him get his... Bag of foreign coffee? Wait a minute—

"That brand is better," yellow tie man said, leaning in closer—Tsuna quickly stepped back. He liked his personal space without anyone else, thank you very much! "And," Tsuna's eyes followed the state back to the shelf, "it's more convenient."

The amount of frustration Tsuna had for this stranger increased from barely there, to why-are-you-bothering-me. Putting on a false smile, he nodded his thanks, and turned away to the self service line. He hoped to never experience that again.

Later, when trying out the different brand of coffee, Tsuna was pleasantly surprised.

—

"Did you enjoy the coffee?" Tsuna jumped in fright, wide brown eyes quickly finding the man from last week. This time, he had an orange tie with a navy collared shirt. Nervously, he patted himself to calm his pulse.

"It was good, yes, t-thanks," he stuttered, looking off to the side at the rest of the isle. There was a sale on coconut oil, maybe he should splurge a little? he thought, trying to distract himself from meeting a stranger again—one that might be helpful, but also saw him in an embarrassing position! He was even picked up without a problem. "Excuse me," Tsuna hoped he didn't seem rude, as he continued off to gather two containers of oil.

"Get the coconut milk with the oil, you'll be able to make a wide variety of sweets," was the last thing said before the helpful man left.

Tsuna found himself buying it, despite not planning on baking.

—

Another week, and they meet again. What was the saying, third times the charm? Tsuna wondered, smiling despite the awkwardness he felt. The man was wearing a red tie, with a black collared shirt, which had a blue shine when seen at the right angle. Finally looking up into surprisingly dark eyes, he allowed his smile to turn into a silly grin. "What recommendations do you have this time?"

Those dark eyes shined mysteriously, and the amused smirk didn't irritate him. Tsuna watched as the man's lips formed words, "they're demands, not recommendations."

"O-oh?" Tsuna thought back, frowning.

"But if you want to think of them as recommendations, I don't mind," the man continued, "as long as I can taste the fruits of your labor."

Tsuna blinked. "Huh."

—

It took several more Wednesdays, and perhaps a lot of patience from both men, but they eventually worked out grocery day—Renato, who finally introduced himself after the fifth meeting, would pick out the ingredients for the week. And Tsuna, after the tenth meeting (along with several text messages and calls), would create meals for both of them with whatever was picked out.

It all worked out.


	5. Quit Me

Admittedly, Namimori High School needed a school counselor. And at the time Tsuna applied, he was desperate for a job. Although... Getting hired and working there (for a week!) was comparable to being starved enough to consider eating their own limbs (but a person wouldn't eat their own hand, right? _Right?_).

Oh, too bad! Accepting the job when the school called back was in fact the first bite to cannibalism! Figuratively, of course. Not that that made anything better—

His old high school had changed greatly compared to when he attended. Yes, there was still bullying. Yes, the teachers dropped detentions like newborn babies attempting to walk. And yes, the school is still (were they ever not?) super stingy with their budget.

But. B-u-t. His Namimori High School duration did Not have an intense Disciplinary Committee made out of former bullies or troublesome kids that favored the old time yankee Delinquent Regent hairstyles. Nor did it have so much foreign students who were particularly violent ("T-that's a water pistol, r-right?" "Hie! That was an explosion! Why isn't anyone panicking?" "Is. That. A. Sword!"). Nor did it have...

Ping!

[sent you another one –R xoxo]

A Sadist Vice Principal, who refused his two week notice, lit it on fire in front of him, and proceeded to add his number in his phone's contacts ("Don't ignore me, Tsuna."). Said Vice Principal who also sent the most scariest (and volatile) students of Namimori High to him.

Tsuna shrunk in his office chair as his office door burst opened, slamming harshly into the wall (just adding to the previous dent—now hole. The door stopper had broke within the hour on his first day). Even after two weeks of, "counseling," he had wondered how the students never failed to visit him.

Ping!

[the taser is in the second drawer, and the red pen has sedatives in it –R xoxo]

Ah, on second thought, he did know. Vice Principal Reborn is scary as—

"Get on with it, Trash!" Scary Student—

Ping! Ping!

[Xanxus. Learn your students, No-Good Tsuna –R xoxo]

[Principal Vongola won't press charges if you do electrocute or stab-sedate his son. –R xoxo]

How unsurprising. Tsuna really, really wanted to cry. And quit.

—

"Kufufu, are you trying to psychoanalyze me, Tsunayoshi-kun?" His eyebrow twitched as he smiled (grimaced) at Rokudo Mukuro, gaze disapproving. He just knew Mukuro-kun added a heart at the end of his sentence, he just knew it. "You know, all you have to do is accept me into your body. Then, we can really connect." His eyebrow wouldn't stop twitching, and increased in intensity after a flirtation wink.

"This is sexual harassment, Mukuro-kun," he intoned blankly.

Ping! Holding in a groan of frustration, Tsuna mentally noted he really needed to shut his phone off during his work hours. Even if it was, "advice."

[don't cheat on me –R :c]

[new sedatives in the blue pen –R xoxo]

—

"Tsuna-sama!"

"It's just Tsuna, Hayato-kun," he automatically corrected, too used to it by now. "What can I do for you today?" Tsuna asked warily, eyeing the other in trepidation. It wasn't that he didn't like Hayato-kun, but ever since he really tried to help the teen (and got through to him because he does _care, _despite trying to quit or get fired at any openings), he—

"I just wanted to see you!"

Visited him often (too often, maybe he should talk to the teen about this?), with puppy like enthusiasm. VP R keeps teasing him about his growing underage harem, the jerk.

[luv u 2 c: –R xoxo]

—

While some students were violently aggressive (even Hayato-kun at first, Tsuna just wanted to cry and blessed everyday that explosive making isn't a common hobby), Yamamoto Takeshi was a different case of concern.

Firstly, Tsuna himself dragged the teen to his office. It was by chance they met on the roof—He trying to escape his office and excitement for just _five_ minutes—And Takeshi-kun... Needed air.

Despite the quite life threatening events and wanting to escape Japan with a whole new identity, being able to be there for others who need something, someone, a direction of sorts.

Being a popular figurehead, person, it's hard. Especially putting effort in every aspect in life that's constantly being watched. But becoming everyone's fool, a person loses their identity...

Ping!

[Stop thinking so hard, or your harem will follow you around –R xoxo]

Tsuna smiled softly at the message. Maybe VP R wasn't so bad.

—

Tsuna wanted to die, be placed in an urn, and have his ashes buried in the opposite side of the world of where Namimori High School resides. Vice Principal—the sadist from the deepest pits of chaos sent him, _him_.

The leader of the Disciplinary Committee himself, Hibari Kyoya.

_Him_.

Ping!

Tsuna was briefly surprised it wasn't his own phone, and watched in trepidation as Hibari-kun frowned, looking put out. He also realized he wasn't breathing, and sought to rectify that. Eventually.

Maybe if he passed out—

Ping! Ping!

[only I can see your sleeping face –R xoxo]

[just think of this as a test for all of your previous encounters –R xoxo]

Vacation. He needed a vacation.

—

Ping!

Tsuna paused the movie, glancing warily at his phone (faced down on the coffee table, and definitely radiating something dangerous). He was relaxing in his humble apartment, and never did get a text during the weekends. While it could just be a wrong number... It probably wasn't.

Vice Principal of Sadistic Tendencies has finally encroached his brief reprieve from Counseling Chaos.

With painful resignation, Tsuna picked his phone up.

[school snow sculpting contest, you're the other supervisor. dress warm. I have the first aid kit. C: –R xoxo]

Well, that isn't... Terrible.

—

Tsuna jinxed himself, he thought as he curled up in Takeshi's Dad's sushi restaurant , mildly glaring at the sheepish (or smug) students who either wanted free food or didn't feel like going home yet.

_He_ wanted to go home, responsibilities be damned.

Ping!

"I'm not reading that when you're next to me," Tsuna muttered as much as he could with a stuffy nose, refusing to look at the said man.

"Oh?" Hot air brushed across his cheeks, and yet... He opened his mouth to complain but—

"Mm?!"

"Eat up, it'll warm you up," Vice Prin—_Renato, _the man was more amused than anything when he found out Tsuna dubbed him VP R, and then insisted with a purr that he called him by his name—said, adding a quiet, "and if that doesn't, I'll take responsibility."


	6. Meetings

"Hey, kid! Are you alright?" Tsuna asked, concerned for the curly haired child just a few steps ahead of him. Said child was attempting to hold in tears, but it still overflowed, flowing hotly down flushed cheeks from the chill of the late autumn night. Kneeling in front of the child, Tsuna grabbed hold of the sleeve of his uniform, gently dabbing away the excess tears around wide swollen eyes. He noted their bright green color, and desperately hoped the kid knew some Japanese. "There, there, now, want to tell me what's the matter?"

"Nnnnn," the kid whined in distress, looking around anxiously with a conflicted expression, small hands gripping the hem of his sweater. It would have been a cute sight if he didn't look so... Lost. Tsuna was debating on trying out his rusty English when the kid appeared to have made up his mind, a tear stained face looking up at him determinedly. "I wanted to buy a grape soda, but I forgot I spent all my money already."

Tsuna barely managed not to smile, "Ah, what a coincidence! I also wanted a soda, well orange in my case. And since you've tried your best in not crying, shall I reward you with a soda of your own?"

"I didn't cry! I was just warming my cheeks!" The kid pouted for a bit before continuing, "And haven't you heard? No taking sweets from strangers!"

This kid really is cute, Tsuna thought. "Weeell, if that's the case, I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi, but you can call me Tsuna. And you are?" he asked, rocking a bit on his heels. His crouched form was anything but comfortable.

"I am The Great Lambo-sama!" the kid, now Lambo-san, exclaimed, puffing his chest out proudly and pointing his thumb toward himself.

"Ahh, so now that we know each other, would you allow me to gift you some grape soda?" Tsuna grinned, a happy child was better to talk to and find out where they needed to be than an upset one.

"But! I still don't know who you are!" Lambo-san pouted, fingertips still fidgeting with the hemline of the sweater. "I only know your name!"

"Eh, that is a problem," Tsuna played along, tapping his chin, "what would you like to know?"

"Age, occupation, and why you're talking to me for starters," Lambo said, a strangely sharp look in his eyes despite his childish expression. Tsuna briefly wondered what he got himself into before pushing away his terrible imagination—kids were always curious.

"Hmm, I'm currently 23, and I'm working part-time here, at this bathhouse." Tsuna pointed at the wood and stone building the two were a couple of feet from. "As for why, well, at first I wanted a fruity, fizzy, and bright drink because I've been in working in the too hot and wet rooms for too long. And then as I was walking out here by the vending machines to get said drink during my break time, I found you crying—"

"Not crying!" Lambo yelped, looking awfully embarrassed, and therefore even more cute. Tsuna played along happily, hiding a fond smile.

"—Not crying, found you not crying, but still looking upset, so! That's why I'm talking to you, because you looked upset and seeing as I'm the only adult here, it's my duty to make sure you're alllllll right, and to find your neglecting parents or guardian," Tsuna finished, standing up to stretch out the kinks in his muscles. He couldn't crouch any longer, unless he wanted muscle cramps or stiffness.

"Neglecting Guardian, at your service," a dark voice said. Right next to his ear.

"Hie?!" Tsuna squeaked, body jumping in surprise. His trembling legs quickly lost strength, making him unable to stay standing and caused him to fall toward the ground. Or would have, because the mysterious Neglecting Guardian of Lambo-san grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him upright easily. Tsuna's own hands were gripping onto the man's shoulder and wrapped his own arm around his waist in a panicked grip, getting mixed feelings on whether to push away or continue to hold on. Really, everything happened too unexpectedly.

"Lambo, what have I told you about straying away?" Tsuna frowned as he noted the ashamed look from the child's face, a few sniffles starting to come out again from the early not-tears coming out. "And Tsuna, was it? Are your legs up for standing," the dark voice lowered before continuing, "or shall I continue to hold you?" The tips of his ears heated as he felt his hot breathe and the soft brushes from lips as the man asked him the last question.

Of course, this was the breaking point of not having any personal space. "I'm fine! Please, let go!" And as Tsuna was released, he quickly stepped away from the man, spinning around as he did so and taking care not to bump into Lambo. Tsuna wrapped one arm self consciously around himself and rubbed his ear irritably. He was feeling wholly violated. And in front of a child, no less! "Was that necessary?" he asked with a frown on his face, looking off to the side to check on the kid (who was now looking down) before looking back at the Neglecting Guardian. He watched as a hand was offered to him warily, not attempting to reach out his own. The not-so-innocent smile on the man's face didn't look as apologetic as it could have been. Jerk.

"Thanks for looking after Lambo, but we should be leaving now," the man's smile grew in amusement, while he didn't bother to answer his question. "Perhaps we'll meet again."

Tsuna, who's throughly tired and irritated by his whole day pushed it all away. First, by ignoring the Neglectful Guardian, and kneeling back down to Lambo-san's height—he does give props to the man, seeing brief shifting to continue watching his interactions with his charge—and holding out his pinky. "Well then, since Mr. Invade Personal Space there is in such a rush," Tsuna grinned back at the shy grin he got, "I'll gift you a grape soda the next time you're around, 'Kay? Pinky promise."

With the bright smile he received (as well as the careful pinky clenching), Tsuna's own grew fond. He really hoped the kid came back, to enjoy a warm meal in the welcoming bathhouse he worked at, and with grape soda after a dip in the hot outdoor bathing facilities...

"Little Lambo, let's go," mysterious man said, smirking at Tsuna before heading off. The kid waved at him eagerly before mouthing a Goodbye, happily trotting away to catch up to his neglectful guardian. "Don't worry, a promise is to be kept, Tsuna," the man's voice carried into the cool evening, his hand nonchalantly waving.

Was that a chill down his spine? Tsuna hoped not. His earlier promise to Lambo-san suddenly felt ominous. Releasing a sigh after watching the two walk away, he got up from his crouch and stretched.

The future holds many possibilities.


End file.
